


Murphy Monday

by Remsyk



Series: Antics and Nonsense [4]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, Mondays Suck, Shitty day, everyone has a bad day, sorry - Freeform, text chat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 08:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remsyk/pseuds/Remsyk
Summary: One of the Universal Truths was that Mondays suck. Some Mondays suck more than others, and once in a while, one comes along that sets it apart from the others.





	Murphy Monday

**Author's Note:**

> For the Enablers <3

Quatre began his day like any other. The weather had been cold, far colder than he prefered, but such was the nature of where he lived. After bundling up, he trudged out to his car, mentally preparing for another day with the hellions people passed off as children.

He brushed the light dusting of snow off his car, mentally shaking his head. 

They weren’t so bad, most days. The weather tended to make him crabbier than usual.

Finished, he climbed in, mind set on autopilot as he backed out of his driveway-

And sideswiped his neighbor’s fence.

Quatre immediately slammed the brakes, leaning his head against the steering wheel as he fought down the urge to scream.

If ever there was a Monday to end all Mondays…

He leaned back once the worst of his urge passed, pulling into his driveway enough to assess the damage. He opened his car door and stomped out to check his side mirror, remembering the ominous crunch as it was smashed against the fence-

When his feet suddenly went out from under him. With an undignified squeak, he fell, landing hard on his rump.

Quatre hissed and rubbed his back, cursing every iteration of cold weather under the sun as the snow soaked into his pants.

He got up slowly, stepping gingerly to the car. He reached inside and snatched his wallet, phone, and keys, then slammed the door shut.

Fuck today. He’d go into work later.

*

Heero darted inside the building quickly, stomping the snow from his boots as he hunched further into his coat and scarf. 

He, usually, wasn’t one to complain about the weather, but this cold snap had long ago lost its novelty. 

He made his way to his office, nodding at the occasional greeting. Once inside, he started up his computer, pulling off his gloves as he waited. As expected, his inbox had exploded, the subject lines all displaying different variations of the same request: Please fix this!

Even though he had expected as much, it still sent a spike of annoyance through him. He had been sick for the past week, unable to get a full night’s sleep between the coughing, sneezing, and lack of usable airways. He felt better today, but not enough to deal with everyone’s problems.

With a sigh, he made his way to the breakroom, determined to get some breakfast before he dived into their mess. On a whim, he ducked into the bathroom, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of himself, bundled up and disgruntled, then continued on.

The room was blissfully empty, saving him from having to engage in pointless conversation to pass the time. He set about his task, assembling his porridge with practiced ease, then set it in the microwave.

He sat back and waited, his mind wandering over the various requests, when he heard a pop. He blinked, frowning at the microwave. 

Another pop.

Heero snatched the door, pulling it open quickly-

And stared at his porridge, spilled over the edge of his cup, splattered on the walls, and all over the glass plate below.

Heero closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, calming his irrational thoughts.

It was just porridge; the microwave didn’t explode, nothing was burned. He just didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now.

With a sigh, he set about cleaning it up, his shoulders sagging.

Once finished, he trudged back to his office, empty-handed and already done with today. He shed his coat and scarf, and opened up the first email on the list.

_ Hello! Just a reminder that you’re scheduled to do tutoring this afternoon. Have a good day! _

Heero stared at the message, then heaved a sigh, resisting the urge to drop his head on the desk and just sleep.

Fuck Mondays.

*

Wufei blinked blearily at the schedule, finding his name among the sea of fellow nurses. Thankfully, he was in for an easier day, if everything went well. The past couple had been… less than kind to him.

He was slated to assist with thirteen eye surgeries, a simple enough job. He held onto the hope that today would be better, despite his meager three hours of sleep. On that note, he turned and made his way to his station.

A few surgeries later, he was beginning to feel the effects of his insomnia. He muffled another yawn, despite guzzling the hospital’s “coffee”, and moved to prep the next patient. He read over the chart, then grabbed the eye drops, moving around the patient to get a better angle. He was just about to squeeze the bottle when a thought stopped him cold.

He was on the wrong side.

Wufei quickly corrected himself, administering the drops into the correct eye, then busied himself with the chart. 

How embarrassing, to almost make such a simple mistake! Wufei shook his head, scolding himself for his near miss. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

The doctor soon entered, and Wufei focused he attention on the task at hand.

Once finished, he found a chair and sat down, disposing of his gown and gloves as they waited for the next patient to be brought in. He was so wrapped up in his tired haze he didn’t notice the doctor until a hand descended on his arm.

He jumped, rolling the chair away from the intruder as he tensed, eyes wide. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the doctor chuckled. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Wufei bit back, resisting the urge to rub his arm. “Simply tired.”

The doctor nodded, but refrained from commenting further. 

But it marked the beginning of a trend. Throughout the rest of the day, anytime Wufei was in the doctor’s vicinity, he would touch him in some way, a tap on the shoulder, a hand on his back, a nudge on his waist to move him out of the way.

Every touch ramped up Wufei’s tension until he was sure he would snap. Regardless of what he said to the doctor, no matter how polite, he didn’t get the message.

Finally, after the last surgery, Wufei fled, ignoring the offered hand and tossing protocol out the window. 

He was mad as hell and done with his kindly, old man bullshit. 

Fuck Monday and everyone in it.

*

Trowa woke slowly, blinking around the car as he tried to figure out what had woken him. He glanced at his phone, noting it was still too early for his alarm to go off. He shivered suddenly, and he pulled his coat tighter around him as he glanced out the window.

The train had stopped.

_ Attention passengers, this is your driver speaking. We’ve been stopped by the station due to a broken down train at Penn Station. Hopefully, we’ll be up and running soon. However, in order to conserve power, we will be turning down the heating slightly. We apologize for the inconvenience, and hope to be up and running soon. _

Trowa rolled his eyes. They were going to turn down the heat, in this weather? Did they intend on delivering icicles to the station? With nothing better to do than wait, he snuggled down into his coat, and settled in for the long haul.

Forty five freezing minutes later, the train finally pulled into the station. Coupled with another fifteen minutes of standing in line for a cab, intersected with a handful self entitled dicks who cut the line, he finally made it to the rehearsal.

Only to find that the scenic director wouldn’t be coming.

“What do you mean, he’s not coming?” Trowa demanded, glaring at the unlucky intern. 

She clutched an iPhone, showing it to him as though it was the answer to all his questions. “H-he called earlier on FaceTime. He said I just needed to walk around with the phone so he could see everything.”

Trowa closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. The director was either incredibly lazy or brilliant, and he couldn’t help be be furious with him for both. Why suffer the cold and come to work when technology and an eager intern could do the work for you?

“Alright, fine, whatever,” he waved her off, determined to make the most of his trip. He suddenly shivered and glanced around the large room, mentally cursing the ones who decided the theater needed to be in the basement, of all places.

He grabbed the closest intern. “Can we get some heat in here? It’s freezing.”

The young man shrugged, pushing his chunky scarf up over his chin. “This is as warm as it gets in here.”

Trowa blinked, resignation setting in as he realized just what kind of day he was in for. With a sigh, he set to work, mentally grumbling the entire time.

Fuck Mondays.

*

Duo woke with a yawn and a full bodied stretch, sighing contently as he settled into the warmth of his bed.

He had nothing to do today and all day to do it.

He rose and showered, glancing outside as he towel dried his hair. It was snowing, thick white snowflakes that promised to accumulate quickly, covering everything in a heavy, white blanket.

It was perfect.

After tossing in a load of laundry, he settled back in his favorite chair with his phone, and opened his chat. 

And blinked in surprise.

_ Quatre: I just hit the neighbor’s fence like a fucking idiot and broke my car mirror gdi _

_ Oh no!!!! Are you okay? _

Duo waited anxiously for a reply, staring at the notification as Quatre typed.

_ Quatre: So I’m taking a bit to chill before going into work. _

_ Quatre: Haha well I slipped on ice when I got out to check but at least I fell on my ass _

_ Quatre: This is not my day _

Duo frowned at his phone; he almost felt guilty for having a pleasant morning.

More responses rolled in, and Duo felt better for it; the others had been worried, but it seemed he was okay.

_ Heero: This is not an auspicious Monday. _

_ Heero: My porridge exploded all over the microwave this morning too. _

A picture was attached, displaying the watery carnage. Duo grimaced in sympathy. 

_ Is this Murphy’s Monday? _

_ Should I be wearing a helmet? _

_ Quatre: Probably _

Well, that was reassuring.

_ Wufei: I nearly put drops in the wrong eye and I got about 3 hours of sleep so yeah, it’s def one of those days _

Crap, three for four. Duo chewed on his lip, typing quickly.

_ So, hopefully Trowa is having a good day, cuz I’m thhiiiiis close to declaring it Murphy Monday and sitting on my bed in a pillow fort _

It didn’t take long for him to reply.

_ Trowa: DID YOU KNOW that when a train gets disabled at penn station and you are stuck on YOUR train sitting on the track they turn the HEAT down to conserve power or whatever the fuck _

_ Trowa: And did you know that after 45 minutes of shivering I finally arrived in NYC and then spent another 15 minutes freezing my ass off outside in the taxi quete and of course a handful of fucking dudes cut other people sporadically _

_ NOOOOOO! _

_ Monday is cancelled _

Duo shook his head, tossing his phone to the side as he went to rotate his laundry. Four for four. He definitely felt bad for having a good day. He tossed in another load, then went back to his chair, snatching his phone.

And blinked at the wave of messages, each one a glimpse into his friend’s shitty days.

_ Wufei: The doctor today is the very old one and he has entirely too much downtime between patients and he keeps touching me and _

_ Wufei: I’m going to snap _

_ Heero: I have tutoring after this too… _

_ Trowa: The scenic director isn’t even here at this rehearsal _

_ Quatre: How I feel about today…  _ (complete with a picture of Quatre frowning at the camera).

_ Trowa: This theatre is in a basement, and it’s fucking freezing, and I’m so fucking miserable _

Duo stared at his phone, almost afraid to say anything. 

_ I hate that everyone’s having a bad day :(((( _

_ Monday is cancelled! _

_ Wufei: Today should be cancelled _

_ Heero: I would like to cancel today too _

_ Quatre: Monday = Cancelled _

_ Trowa: So cancelled _

Duo smiled, glad that despite their crappy day, everyone still held onto their sense of humor. 

The buzz of his dryer alerted him to his current task, and Duo rose and stretched. He grabbed an empty clothes basket and made his way to the stairs-

And stubbed his toe on the coffee table.

“Mother FUCK!” Duo hissed as he grabbed his foot, assessing the damage as he glared at the table.

Fuck Mondays.


End file.
